Tobacco?
why not rolls of honest tobacco! nothing so much soothes the labourer.

A volume of plans for the benefit of London smoked out of each ascending pile in his brain.

London is at night a moaning outcast round the policeman's' legs.

What of an all-night-long, cosy, brightly lighted, odoriferous coffee-saloon for rich or poor, on the model of the hospitable Paduan?
Owner of a penny, no soul among us shall be rightly an outcast....
Dreams of this kind are taken at times by wealthy people as a cordial at the bar of benevolent intentions.

But Victor was not the man to steal his refreshments in that known style.